Dear Cold, It's been three weeks now that we've been acquainted. You infiltrating my nose, sinuses, and lungs like you were invited. Me chugging Mucinex like a drunk on a bender trying to rid myself of your presence but you persist. I particularly relish the way you retreat a little bit and lull me into a false sense of wellness only to come back with a vengeance. At the first tinge of you I started those expensive little lies that you take to "stop a cold before they start." After $50 at
Somedays I feel like I'll always live between two worlds with people. There are the people who knew me when I was heavy (or most of my life) and those that know me now. Those that knew me all those years are stunned to see me now and sometimes it takes them a moment to even recognize me.